


Red Vengeance

by TerribleAndRed



Series: Red is the Warmest Color: Cersei and Melisandre are Ice and Fire [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Boys in Chains, Chains, Chair Bondage, Cruelty, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominatrix, F/F, F/M, Facial Shaving, Force Bondage, Gen, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Multi, Non-Consensual Bondage, Object Penetration, POV Cersei, Pegging, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Service Submission, Shaving, Strap-Ons, Submission, Teasing, Threesome - F/F/M, cruel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleAndRed/pseuds/TerribleAndRed
Summary: Cersei never thought she'd see Jaime again after he abandoned her to fight the White Walkers. She was wrong, and her new lover Melisandre helps her dole out the queen's justice upon his return. Set after Game of Thrones, Season 7, after Cersei and Melisandre have already been a couple and Cersei has given birth to her child with Jaime, the Princess Joanna.





	Red Vengeance

Author's Note: Set after Game of Thrones, Season 7, after Cersei and Melisandre have already been a couple and Cersei has given birth to her child with Jaime, Princess Joanna

As Cersei roused herself from bed and opened her eyes, she saw sunlight streaming into the window, shining a light on Melisandre sitting on the rocking chair as she bounced little Joanna on her knee. She sang softly, in High Valeryian, so that she wouldn’t wake her lover up, but Cersei was pleased to hear Melisandre’s singing. After Cersei’s child had been born, Melisandre’s singing was sometimes the only thing that helped the infant stop crying, and it continued to enchant and calm Joanna throughout the first year of the princess’ life. Melisandre’s voice had been the only thing that calmed Cersei during the pain of childbirth. 

It was a bizarre sight: peace in King’s Landing. No one had expected to see sunlight in the capital again, for it was said that the next winter would be agonizingly long. But Cersei’s tactic of staying out of The Great War had proven, to all her enemies’ surprise, to be to her advantage.Yes, the Dragon Queen had proven useful. Her dragons’ fire burned the army of the dead and extinguished winter for good, bringing sunshine back into the Red Keep’s windows. But when the ice dragon—Cersei couldn’t bother keeping their silly names straight—took one final breath onto his mother and the Pretender in the North, Jon Snow, as they rode atop Drogon together, all hopes of a re-established Targaryen dynasty vanished. And Cersei was still Queen. 

The Northerners had rebelled, of course, led by the girl that would be no woman without Cersei’s wisdom and counsel, Sansa Stark. But, after learning that Sansa had not killed Joffrey, and after Melisandre told Cersei of the courage and integrity she’d witnessed Sansa display during her own time in the North, Cersei eventually agreed to a compromise. Melisandre had softened Cersei’s icy heart enough for the word “compromise” to even enter her vocabulary. As a result, Sansa Stark ruled as the Lady of Winterfell in the independent North (her tramp of a sister had traveled West of Westeros), with Queen Cersei continuing her reign over the rest of the Kingdoms, and the birth of baby Joanna ensuring the future of a Lannister legacy. It was easy enough to dispose of Euron Greyjoy; once he delivered the gold he’d promised from the Golden Company, he soon met death by fire, the purest death, as Melisandre and Cersei looked on and smirked at one another approvingly.

As Melisandre brushed through little Joanna’s blonde curls with her long, graceful fingers, they heard a knock on the door. “Who calls?” Cersei asked. “Your Hand,” she heard Qyburn respond. Cersei and Melisandre looked at one another and laughed; Qyburn was the official Hand of The Queen, but, as Melisandre had pointed out one night, only she had her hand  _ in _ the queen. Ever since this comment, both women could hardly contain themselves from rapturous laughter every time Qyburn called himself “the Hand.” “Come in,” Cersei commanded, as she put on a robe and opened the door. Her hip-length golden tresses, restored through magic by her lover, glimmered in the sunlight. “Forgive me, my queen, for intruding,” Qyburn said, “but you have a visitor. One that you’ll want to meet in the Throne Room. It is urgent.” “Fine,” Cersei sighed, and rolled her eyes. This was supposed to be a peaceful morning with her lover and her baby girl, not a time for politics. Melisandre helped Cersei into her red lion-brocaded gown and, while combing her hair, pulled on her hair and bit her neck. “Not now,” Cersei murmured. “Apparently it’s urgent.” “If you say so,” Melisandre pouted, and gently nibbled on Cersei’s ear before placing her crown atop her head.

As both women left their chamber, Cersei’s handmaidens trailed behind them into the Throne Room. Cersei took her seat on the Iron Throne, Qyburn standing on one side, Melisandre on the other holding Joanna.  “Bring the traitor in” Qyburn commanded.

The Queensguard brought in a dirty man with long blonde hair caked in mud, bearded and held chained by Ser Gregor, his head downcast. At first Cersei didn’t recognize him, but then his green eyes glanced into hers. For there he was. For the first time in over a year, there he was. The man she had loved since before she could remember, the man she never thought she could feel whole without. She’d heard no word of her traitor brother after the Great War had ended. Although her heart still ached when she thought of him leaving her pregnant and alone on that cold day long ago, Melisandre had done more than fill the hole in her heart he’d opened. She’d shown the Queen a deeper love—not to mention, better orgasms—than Jaime ever had. Yes, she was still part of one whole, but Melisandre was now her other half.

“And what could this traitor possibly want with me?” Cersei sneered, tilting her head to the side while making sure her gaze never left his. She noticed his eyes flit to the sight of Melisandre holding Joanna, and they welled with tears.

“Forgiveness,” Jaime said. Cersei laughed haughtily. “And what would possibly make you think I’d grant you that? You shouldn’t even have a head.” 

“Cersei, I…”

“My queen” Cersei interjected. “You will call me your queen.”

He bristled, and Ser Gregor tugged on his chains harder. “My queen,” he continued. “The Great War is over, and almost the minute I left King’s Landing, I felt such deep remorse. When I see our beautiful child right now—”

“She is  _ not _ your child!” Cersei snarled. “She belongs to myself and the Lady Melisandre. I’ll allow you to continue.”

“Yes. News of this unusual arrangement has spread throughout the kingdoms” he said, and Melisandre’s red eyes and red ruby necklace flashed. “I left for her, and for you. I wanted to fight the Great War to make sure the Army of the Dead would never hurt you or her. I always intended to come back. I was a fool. Like you said, maybe I am the stupidest Lannister. But I beg you, please let me into your Queensguard. I will do everything I can to fight for the continuation of the Lannister legacy and our...the Princess.” He got down on his knees. 

“The Princess Joanna, named after our Lady Mother. A woman with more honor and courage than you’ve ever had” Cersei sneered. 

Cersei paused, contemplating her next step. She had no reason to trust him, but he could be of some use to her. She looked to Melisandre for guidance, and when their eyes locked, she knew exactly what of which use he could be to her.

“Bernadette,” she asked her most faithful handmaiden, “Please take Joanna to her chambers and look after her for the next few hours. Everyone else except the Lady Melisandre, Ser Gregor, and the Traitor, leave.” 

Melisandre handed the toddler to Bernadette, and the Throne Room’s occupants scurried out, with Jaime still on his knees. He feared looking into his sister’s eyes, but she looked so beautiful, her hair once again long and flowing, in the deep crimson color that suited her best, that he couldn’t help but sneak a glimpse. “Don’t you  _ dare _ look at me” Cersei snapped, and Melisandre smirked. “Ser Gregor,” she commanded, stepping off of the Iron Throne to stand and pointing at the throne, “you can chain him onto here. Make sure he’s facing downwards….ah but first, I think he needs a shave, don’t you, Lady Melisandre? You look like a peasant, not like the brother of a Queen.” Melisandre nodded. “Ser Gregor, chain the traitor to the throne, facing upwards for now. Fetch some water, foam, and a razor. And...” she looked at Melisandre, the shadow of a smile forming on her face, “the instrument in the top drawer of my chambers.” Ser Gregor did as she commanded, Jaime slack and helpless as he was chained to the Throne.

Ser Gregor left briefly to fetch the supplies Cersei requested. “So are you going to kill me now or later” Jaime asked. 

“I’m not going to kill you” Cersei said with a smug smile, as she tilted her head to the left. “We’re going to make good use of you. Restore you to your proper place. But first you must look more presentable.”

Jaime sighed with relief. “I had heard the fire priestess melted your icy heart but I hadn’t imagined you’d become so soft to not kill a traitor.” Cersei slapped him. “Say one more word, and I will” she sneered. Ser Gregor arrived with the supplies. “Thank you for your service, Ser Gregor. You can leave the three of us alone now.”

Ser Gregor walked out “The three of us?” Jaime asked. “Yes, Kingslayer,” Melisandre replied. “I will shave you. I’m quite skilled in hairstyling. Just ask your sister.” Melisandre grabbed his head harshly and forced it back, wetted his beard, and then raised the scalpel to his neck. Jaime trembled. “Be careful, my lady,” Cersei softly but powerfully commanded. “We don’t want to slip and cut his throat.” “No, of course not,” Melisandre replied, smiling slyly at Cersei, and she began to scrape off the hair that covered Jaime’s handsome jawline. Soon, he looked once again like the gallant rake that had stabbed the Mad King in that same room—but with more furrows in his brow, and more fear on his face. Melisandre gathered the shorn hair, and lit it on fire with the snap of a finger until it disintegrated. 

“See, she is of more use to me than you ever could have tried to be,” Cersei smirked at Jaime. “She cleans efficiently, she is an actual parent to the Princess, and, yes, she makes this lioness roar in bed more loudly than you ever could.” Jaime grimaced. “Now while he’s still chained, please flip him around, Melisandre. I will fetch...our toy.”

Jaime grunted as Melisandre flipped him around and tightened the chains that bound him to the throne, and tore his pants off his body. Cersei re-emerged holding a golden box, and opened it in front of Jaime’s eyes. Inside the box lay a strange contraption; what looked like a large manhood, made of pure gold, attached to a harness. “Melisandre, stay with us. I go first. Please help me take off my gown.”

Jaime’s eyes hungered with lust; finally, he would get his woman back. But this time, only on her terms. Turned away from her, he was denied the pleasure of seeing her naked, her golden locks falling over her breasts, as she strapped the harness on. “This shouldn’t hurt,” she said. “Maybe a bit. But you’ll get used to it. Especially after a few months,” and she then straddled and penetrated him from behind, thrusting into him while laughing, her green eyes shining like wildfire. Standing next to their human sex toy, Melisandre looked into Jaime’s eyes and stroked his hair. Jaime tried to stifle a yell when he felt the initial sharp entrance—this was not the romantic reunion he had yearned for— but, despite the lack of lubrication it, didn’t feel quite so terrible. In fact, it was rather wonderful, especially to feel her long, soft hair brush his back. He was thrilled, but couldn’t show the queen, because any sign of his happiness might ensure his death. 

When Cersei was finished, Jaime lay in the same position, arms spread, bottom exposed, his hidden face gleeful. “Are you tired, dear brother? I hope not. The Lady Melisandre and I both enjoy playing with our toy equally, so it’s only fair she gets her turn.” Melisandre shook off her crimson robe, and strapped on the device. Jaime moaned as she penetrated him, with pleasure or with pain—they could not tell. Cersei imagined it was with pain, for her own sake, but Jaime was in rapture. The spikes of the Iron Throne loomed omniously towards his face as he was forced closer and closer to them by Melisandre’s deep thrusts. “I would die happy if one of these spikes killed me right now,” he thought to himself. Just as a spike was about to hit his face, she pulled out. “Turn him around,” Cersei commanded, and Melisandre did. Jaime’s face expressed an odd mixture of fear and arousal. “Don’t look so satisfied, traitor. This wasn’t for  _ you _ ! Ser Gregor!” Cersei shouted, and he came. “Please place the traitor in a cell. We’ll be fetching him from time to time, but for now, he can be alone to contemplate his mistakes.” Melisandre, now clothed, looked at Jaime, red eyes shining, and smiled, and pulled his pants back up as she unchained him.  “I look forward to our next encounter, Kingslayer,” she said. “And…” he began to say before Cersei interrupted. “And so does he.” The two women locked hands as Ser Gregor walked the trembling Jaime down to a cell. Eventually Cersei might release him and reinstate him as Lord of Casterly Rock, but for now, he would be restored to his true place as her object, another toy to enliven her and Melisandre’s nocturnal activities. And secretly, he didn’t mind. 


End file.
